Shape of You
by InfinitelyWicked
Summary: Waking up with a killer hangover and no memories of the previous night, Victor is left with little evidence of what happened. What he does have, however, is a pair of underwear that isn't his. Now he wants to find the mystery man he spent his night with by any means necessary. Victuuri. Rated M just in case.
1. Chapter 1

Soft light filtered through the room in small streams, illuminating the bedroom in a gentle glow.

Despite the warm ambiance of the room, the man sleeping in the large bed felt anything but contentment. But when did hangovers ever really allow anyone to have such comfort?

No. This hangover currently had his head spinning like he was on an out-of-control carnival ride and pounding like he had just went three rounds in the ring with Muhammad Ali.

The man had no idea what had happened for him to have the hangover to put all other hangovers to shame, but he knew it must have been one hell of a night. He had had plenty of hangovers in the past, but nothing even remotely this severe. Could hangovers kill people? This one felt like it could.

With a groan and a good stretch, the man got up, wincing as he did so as he heard his bones pop like an arthritic old man's. How long had he been asleep? Ten hours? More? It felt like it had been forever.

The man shook his head lightly to dispel the pain behind his eyes, stumbling around as if still drunk. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he made his way towards his bathroom, tripping over thin air as he did.

Once inside, he closed the door and blindly reached around for his sink. Once he felt the smooth porcelain underneath his fingertips, he reached a little further for the faucet handles and turned them on. When he found a temperature he liked, he cupped his hands full of the liquid and splashed it in his face and rubbed it tiredly.

After a few seconds, the man forced his eyes to open slowly, taking a peak at his reflection as he did so.

If he didn't feel so drained then he would have screamed in terror like a dramatic teenage girl. The ghastly creature from hell staring back at him from the mirror couldn't be him, right?

His reflection looked like him, but his features were gaunt and his skin pasty as if he had either seen a ghost or was turning into one. His eyes were half-lidded and there were dark circles under his eyes. He didn't even want to think about how terrifying his hair looked either. He didn't even know his hair could stand up like that.

Nothing could make it look worse, and with how he was feeling, he doubted he could do anything to make it look any better. That left him with only one option: Take a shower hot enough to melt away all the grime and tiredness he felt.

He splashed his face once more before he turned his sink off and walked over to his shower stall instead. Turning the faucet on, he held his hand under the steady stream of water until he found a temperature he liked.

Not needing to shed his clothes off, considering he woke up as naked as the day he was born, the man stepped in front of the showerhead like he normally would. What he wasn't expecting, however, was the sharp sting to his back. It was like salt was being rubbed into open wounds while simultaneously being slapped. It hurt like hell and he instinctively recoiled from the pain as if he was burned.

He let out startled gasp as the pain subsided. Scrunching his face in confusion, he held his hand under the water again to see if it had become too hot all of a sudden. It was slightly warmer than lukewarm. Even a child wouldn't complain about the water. Then, why did it hurt him?

Stepping out of the shower and turning the water off, the man returned to his mirror and looked at his reflection. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There was a pretty good-sized hickey on the right side of his neck, along with a couple others peppered across his chest, but that was it.

He had sex. That wasn't really out of the ordinary, but he didn't see anything else marring his body.

A hand came up and pinched the bridge of his nose as the man tried to recall the events of last night. He remembered having a rough day at work, but nothing beyond that. Had he drank himself into oblivion and found a random stranger to have sex with afterwards?

Not wanting to overthink anything at the moment, the man turned to his shower again and stepped inside to turn the water on.

Before he could step in under the inviting warmth, he was stopped by the sound of someone ringing his doorbell. It was gentle at first, but as seconds went by, it became more incessant. It was like a grubby, impatient child ringing the doorbell of a house on Halloween night.

The man frowned but shut the water off and grabbed a towel to cover his lower half. He had no problem showing off his body, but he had been told many times that walking around naked wasn't socially acceptable. Besides, he couldn't scare his doorman again, like he had last time. That incident had been months ago, yet the poor man could still barely look at him.

Making sure his towel was firmly in place, the man walked out of his bathroom and across his living room until he reached his front door. Without thinking about who might be on the other side, the man swung the door open, staring his visitor down with a look of disdain.

The man on the other side, Christophe his mind supplied after a few seconds, looked at him with concern evident in his eyes.

"Victor? Are you alright? You look like death," Chris murmured softly as he looked his friend up and down. "Did you get in a fight last night?"

Victor shook his head raggedly before turning around and making his way into his living room, leaving the door wide open for Chris to come in.

Taking one look at his friend's back sent a gleeful expression across Chris's face. "Oh, I see now. How was she? Good, I take it. She still here?"

The platinum blonde man turned around to look at Chris with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. He was annoyed because the man was talking while his headache still pounded like a thunderstorm in his head. But at the same time, he couldn't help but be curious by his words. What was he talking about?

"What?" was all Victor managed to get out as he lifted a hand to massage the side of his fore-head.

Chris let out a soft laugh before leading his friend to his bathroom. Once inside, he positioned Victor in a way that would allow him to see his backside. If it wasn't for the fact that he was in the middle of his worst hangover yet, he would have cried out in shock.

Covering nearly the entirety of his back were long, angry marks. Some of them were merely red trails of angry flesh while others were actually open wounds. Whoever he had screwed last night must have been part cat, because the claw marks raking down his back looked like he had gone a few rounds with a tiger.

"Must have been some pretty good sex if you have scratch marks like those." Chris commented as he left the bathroom so he could take a look at the state of Victor's bedroom. If his friend looked like that, he couldn't imagine Victor's normally pristine room was left untouched.

As Victor stared at the marks left on his body by his mysterious one-night-stand, he suddenly heard Chris let out a bark of laughter from his bedroom.

Tearing his eyes away from the mirror, Victor made his way into his room to see what his friend was laughing about. "What's so funny?"

A few more giggles left his friend's lips. Without saying a word, Chris picked up several items from off the floor before flashing them at his friend.

Tinfoil wrappers, gold in color, caught his eye as his friend waved them around. There were three of them. All three were opened and their contents nowhere in sight. "Size large, eh? You must be a grow-er, not a show-er." Chris teased.

Before the hungover man could bite back a retort, Chris let his eyes trail to the rest of the room until they rested on one of its corners. Victor followed his gaze and found his desk a mess. All of his paperwork was on the floor and his computer was sitting crooked. And, was that a butt print sitting on its surface?

For once in his life, Victor felt himself getting embarrassed. His cheeks took on a rosy hue and his lips pressed themselves into a thin line. He was having troubles processing all of this at once and he felt that if he thought of it any longer he would go madder than the Mad Hatter.

"Is there a reason you're here? Or did you magically know I have a hangover and come over to tease me and make my headache worse?" Victor snapped tiredly, though his words held no real venom.

"I wish," Chris answered with a mockingly sad tone of voice. "I actually came over because you didn't come into work today. No one had seen or heard from you, so I decided to come over and check on you myself. It's like I'm your friend and your keeper."

The platinum blonde's stopped short of his doorway, eyebrows knitting in confusion. "What time is it?" Victor inquired, not sure how long he had been asleep.

Before his friend could answer, he glanced at the alarm clock sitting askew by his messy bed. It read 3:03 PM. He was supposed to be to work five hours ago. No wonder Chris had come to his condo to look for him. Victor was surprised he actually hadn't come sooner.

The Russian man let out a heavy sigh before raking his fingers through his unruly hair. "Wow, I'm really late to work."

Chris chuckled again and nodded his head in agreement. "Yeah, you are. Care to join us the last two hours of the workday? Or would you rather me go back and inform them the boss is hungover and can't come?"

Victor groaned in response but nodded his head. If he took a shower now and got dressed quickly enough, he could make it to work around 4:00 PM and still have time for two hours of work. "Just let me get freshened up first. I look horrible."

His friend nodded before leaving his room, most likely to go to his living room to watch something on his TV. The Swiss man always did have a tendency to make himself at home whenever he came over.

As he took one last look around his room, Victor let out yet another defeated sigh before entering his bathroom.

Once inside, he dropped his towel to the ground and got into his shower stall and turned the faucet on to find his desired temperature yet again. Like last time, he winced at the sting the warm water left on his wounds, but he gritted his teeth until it subsided.

Once they had, he lathered his hair with his normal shampoo, scrubbing at his head vigorously as he tried to wash away the stink of sex and alcohol clinging to his body.

Just to make sure he no longer wreaked of his one-night-stand, he pumped a generous amount of the strongest smelling body wash he owned into his hand. His nose was assaulted immediately with the sharp scent of eucalyptus, followed by soothing balsam.

The eucalyptus invigorated his senses, piercing through the thick veil of mugginess the hangover had shrouded him in. He felt more alert than before, his senses coming back to him the longer he stood under the soothing stream of warm water.

However, he couldn't stay in the comforting confines of his shower stall any longer, no matter how much he wanted to.

It took every ounce of his remaining mental strength to turn off the water and exit his shower. He could have stayed under its warmth forever, but work had literally came knocking and he knew it was only right that he go for the remainder of the day.

Not even bothering to grab his towel from back off the ground, Victor walked into his room completely naked so he could search for a suit to wear. He may only be going in for two hours, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to dress professionally. He had standards to uphold.

With that thought in mind, Victor crossed his bedroom and opened his closet to fetch one of his designer suits.

The pants and vest were dark gray in color, his hands reaching for a crisp, white shirt to pair with the ensemble. For the finishing touch, he opened a drawer that held all his ties. Searching with his eyes, he eventually found one of his favorites: Black and made of silk, with Gucci printed on the back. He liked to think he was a simple man, but apparently not just anyone owned a two-hundred dollar tie.

Dismissing those thoughts, Victor took the things he needed before walking over to his bed and laying them across his comforter.

Piece by piece, the man put the suit on until all that was left was his tie. However, when he looked to his mess of a bed, he didn't see it. Lord knows where it went in that disaster area. However, being it was one of his favorites, he couldn't just leave it in there to be rediscovered later.

With a sigh, his hand reached for the lip of the blanket and peeled it gently from his bed. The sight that met his eyes was enough to make anyone blush. Three condoms, as used as they can get, were laying on his silk sheets, threatening to spill at any moment.

"Shit," Victor let out under his breath. He wasn't expecting to find those in his bed. He had never known himself to have sex good enough to the point where he needed three condoms. Hell, he barely had sex great enough for two condoms. Whoever he had met last night must have been one hell of a woman.

The man pulled his blanket down further and out of the corner of his eye, saw something drop to the floor. It looked to be black.

Thinking it was his tie, he bent down to grab the article of clothing. Yet again, he was startled by what he found. The piece of clothing he picked up was not his tie. They were a pair of briefs. Normally he wouldn't find this odd, but the problem was: They weren't his.

They were smaller than his own by just a single size, the brand not matching any he's ever owned either.

Finding these could only mean one thing: He'd slept with a man. Sure, he found himself appreciating the male form as much as the females from time to time, but he had always been with women when it came to sexual exploits.

So, what had been so special about the man he had slept with last night? He had seen men so beautiful they could have been models for the top fashion companies in the world. But did he ever want to sleep with them? Not really.

Why in the world was the man from last night so different from all the others? He wasn't sure of the answer, but he needed to know now.

Seeing the things left behind from their sexual escapades bothered him in a way he'd never been bothered before. He'd had plenty of one-night-stands in the past, but this one suddenly felt so different.

Who was this mystery man and where was he now? Looking around his room, he found nothing that could tell him more about who he shared his night with. No tantalizing note to tell him to come find him. No number left hastily on a napkin. Nothing.

Victor was struck with the thought that maybe the man didn't want to be found. However, his lover must not have known who he had slept with. Victor liked challenges and he couldn't help but feel this was his biggest one yet. And when it came to challenges, the Russian man never lost.

 **A/N: So, this is the first fic I've actually finished a chapter for in over three years. I found YOI in a time in my life when I needed something to pick me up and I don't think I've ever loved a show more. I haven't been inspired to write anything in quite a while, but I think you'll find me finishing this to the end. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey, everyone! Sorry for the absence! I swear I didn't forget or lose interest in this fic. I literally had nearly all of it written out and then something happened and the document was gone. Not sure what happened, but I had to start from scratch. Anyways, sorry for the wait!**

"Hey, Chris?"

The Swiss man tore his eyes from the captivating romance movie on the TV, his eyes travelling up to find his friend tying to straighten the tie around his neck. "Yes?"

Victor walked over to the couch, eyes searching for something, but Chris couldn't tell what. His own eyes looked around, but he just couldn't tell what Victor could possibly be looking for. Did he lose something? The man could be awfully forgetful sometimes. He wouldn't put it past his friend to forget his own birthday either.

"I can't find my phone," Victor sighed irritably. "I've looked everywhere. Can you call it for me? I kinda need it."

Chris nodded his head and whipped out his phone. Pressing a few buttons until he found Victor's contact, he pressed the send button and waited patiently for his friend's ringtone to resound from somewhere inside the apartment. But, it never came.

Instead, the dial tone stopped after a few seconds and went to voicemail.

Chris frowned but pressed the end button before turning to Victor. "It went to voicemail. If you can't find it here, perhaps you left it at the place you got drunk at last night?"

The Russian man could have cried.

He wasn't necessarily concerned about the cost of losing the device, but he was hoping that his phone would at least have a picture of the man he had slept with, if not a phone number to get a hold of him. Now, he had nothing to go by.

It was frustrating beyond belief. He wanted to bang his head against the nearest wall until he couldn't even remember his own name. How was it that a man he didn't know at all had this sort of effect on him? Why did he feel so desperate to find him again?

Something must have happened last night, something magical, and only his subconscious seemed to remember the events that had taken place. Why else would he have slept with the man? Why else would he be so interested in finding him again? He had always been a man that slept with someone once and that's it. Past one-night-stands had tried to start relationships with him, but he had never been interested before.

Hell, he had even had people he slept with once and then disappeared before he had woken up. He had never felt inclined to look for those people. So, why now?

Victor pinched the bridge of his nose, his headache threatening to return in full force.

"Is something the matter?" Chris asked awkwardly, not knowing what to say as more than a minute passed by of Victor making faces that ranged from manic, to love-struck. Chris felt like he got whiplash just watching him.

"I want to find the person I slept with last night," Victor replied slowly, his body moving of its own accord to sit beside his friend. "I don't know who they were, but I want to find them. I'm just not sure how to do that now."

Chris clapped a hand on his back, a wry smile crossing his lips as he gazed at his friend in silent mirth. He had never heard his friend talk about a one-night-stand like this before. Whoever he had been with last night must be one hell of a person.

Being the good friend that he was, he said,"Don't worry about it. I'll help you find this mystery person so you can be reunited. You don't really ever date, and this is the first person you've ever showed much interest in."

A smile that seemed brighter than even the sun was flashed at Chris, Victor's melancholy flying out the window faster than a cheetah on Red Bull.

Before the Russian man could thank him, Chris held up a hand to stop him in his tracks. "To thank me, you can bring me a cup of my favorite coffee every morning for the next month. It's only fair considering I may very well be helping you find the possible future love of your life."

Victor couldn't help but choke a bit. Future love of his life seemed a tad far-fetched, but he supposed it wasn't entirely impossible. He was nearing his twenty-eighth birthday and he'd never had a relationship that lasted more than a week or two. Maybe this man would change that.

"Deal. But, how do you propose we find him?"

Chris lit up just a bit, eyes widening as he processed his friend's words. Or more specifically, his last word. "Did you just say _him_?"

Victor bit nervously at his lip before nodding his head. He wasn't particularly sure why he was nervous though. Chris was his best friend and it wasn't like the Swiss man hadn't had his own sexual exploits with other males himself.

"How do you know it was a man?" Chris asked excitedly, face lighting up like a child on Christmas day.

Victor pulled the underwear from his pocket and held them up for his friend to look at. There was no denying they were male underwear. Pitch black briefs, cotton in material and only slightly too small to fit on the Russian man's own body.

"Wow. Were you the catcher or the pitcher?"

Leave it to Chris to ask such a question. Only he would want to know that kind of detail. However, he wasn't quite sure himself. "Pitcher, I think. Besides the scratches on my back I don't really hurt anywhere."

"Oh wow. I was excited about finding your one-night-stand before, but I'm even more so now. I've never known you to take on a male lover and now you want to meet this guy. I feel like I'm in a rom-com." Chris murmured excitedly, eyes lighting up with a fire that suggested he would give his all into finding who this guy was.

Victor couldn't help but appreciate the sentiment. He wanted to find the man he had slept with more than anything in the world. He wasn't sure if he could do it alone, but with the help of his friend he was bound to find who he was looking for.

"How about we set up a plan of attack after work then?" Victor offered, getting off the couch. "But no drinking over it. I think I drank enough last night to last me a year."

Chris couldn't stop the bark of laughter that left his mouth. Victor going out and not having an alcoholic drink? He must have really had too much last night.

"Deal. How about we go to that old Asian restaurant a couple blocks from our work building? I heard their food is pretty good." Victor's friend supplied after a few moments.

The Russian nodded his head. "Sounds like a plan. But, we should probably be getting to work now. If I don't get there soon then I'll have twice as much work to deal with tomorrow."

Chris walked across the room to open his front door, grabbing his jacket off the coat rack as he did. "I wouldn't worry too much about catching up on work. Your dedicated employees took care of most of it. If I were you, I'd treat them to something."

Victor grabbed his own coat from the rack and slipped it on, stopping for a moment to brush off a few hairs that sat on its shoulder. The man couldn't help but run a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands lightly to make sure his hair wasn't falling out. "I suppose. Maybe I'll order in catering or something."

"Will you have someone deliver or have your assistant get it for you?"

The Russian man thought for a second, thinking if he really wanted to make his assistant do something as stressful as getting food for more than fifty people while also trying to complete his normal tasks. Well, most bosses in movies had no qualms making their employees do such things. Why couldn't he?

"My assistant can get it. I pay him to do what I need, so there shouldn't be any problem."

Chris clicked his tongue softly before a smile lit up his face. "Well, whenever you plan to have him do that, let me know. I will gladly help him."

Victor frowned, pressing the button on the elevator that would take them to the ground floor. "Why would you want to help my assistant?"

"Have you seen his ass? It's amazing! I just want to grab it whenever I see it. It looks so firm," Chris replied with a lewd smile on his face. "You wouldn't mind if I asked him out, right?"

The platinum blonde scowled, not sure where this sudden interest in his assistant was coming from. He always thought the man was drab and as attractive as a sack of rocks.

Just as Victor was about to ask why Chris was suddenly pining for his assistant, he was cut off by the ding of the elevator and its doors opening. Without a word, the two got into the elevator, Chris pressing the door for the first floor.

Once the doors closed again, Victor couldn't stop himself from asking the only thing that seemed to be circling his head. "What is with the sudden fascination of my assistant? I was under the impression that you thought he is as boring in looks as he is in personality."

Chris cast his friend a confused look. Just as he was about to reply to Victor, the elevator opened, revealing the front lobby of the first floor.

"You know what? Enough about my assistant. Wasn't the deal with Akimoto from Japan supposed to take place today?" Victor asked, going into business-mode.

Momentarily forgetting what they had been talking about before, Chris seemed to snap into his business self as well. "Yes. That meeting was at ten this morning. You two were to discuss that $100 million deal, but when he placed the video-call, you never answered."

Victor stopped dead in his tracks, face going pale and body going rigid as he processed his friend's words.

That deal was supposed to be big. It wasn't just about the money, but the collaboration it would bring on with the Japanese company. Dealing with them would open the doors to other companies in Asia. If he lost this deal then he'd have to spend years trying to recover that ground again.

"How much begging do you think I'm going to have to do in order to salvage this deal?" Victor asked after a few moments of awkward sweating and nervous lip-biting.

Chris let out a laugh and continued walking to the car garage, his bright red Porsche sitting in the far left corner just waiting for them.

Victor had to nearly chase after him to keep up, mind reeling a mile a minute as he tried to figure out why Chris was laughing and not panicking like he currently was.

"What's so funny?" the Russian man whined, nearing the point of hysterics.

Chris unlocked the car and got in, turning the ignition when Victor himself plopped down in the passenger seat with a disgruntled huff.

"Well, you really won't have to fix anything," Chris began, a smile creeping onto his face as he backed out of the parking spot. "Someone else answered for you and was able to salvage the deal."

Victor visibly relaxed then, a hand going up to wipe at the sweat that collected on his forehead. "Oh, thank god. You had me worried there for a bit."

Chris turned onto the street then, stepping on the gas before weaving through traffic like that of a NASCAR driver. People pressed their horns incessantly as they sped by, curses flying through the air accompanying the honks.

Neither Chris nor Victor gave the people any mind, both of them used to the yells and honks that were thrown their way. They had no time to dilly-dally around and so driving normally wasn't much of an option.

Driving like the way they were, the two made it to their office building in less than ten minutes.

Parking at the front of the building and giving the keys to the valet, the two walked into the building, Chris giving the receptionist a few nice words and a wink with Victor giving her a professional smile.

The woman returned Chris's kind sentiment, but couldn't stop herself from eyeing Victor suggestively.

The two men noticed this look but didn't say or do anything about it. Normally Victor would have laid on his charms and asked the woman out to drinks, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Whoever he had slept with last night was the only one on his mind now. He didn't want anything from anyone else, just the mystery man he had spent his previous night with.

The woman frowned at the lack of further attention from Victor but said nothing.

The two men entered the elevator, silence enveloping them as soon as the doors closed. It was comfortable in a way, and Victor found it nice since too much talking or too loud of noises would bring his headache roaring back with a vengeance.

The silence didn't last long, however, when the elevator dinged and opened its door.

Victor was met with the eyes of at least twenty of his employees, their gaze studying him with a mixture of wonder and scrutiny.

Victor paid them no mind and proceeded to leave the elevator so he could walk straight to his office, Chris following closely behind him. Or at least, the Swiss man was, until they were only a few feet from the office. The man looked to the left and must have noticed something, or someone, and veered off towards whatever it was.

The Russian didn't even seem to notice though and proceeded into his office, eyes going to his desk where he spotted a small portion of paperwork. In fact, it was way smaller than he had anticipated. He was expecting a stack at least half a foot high. Chris really hadn't been lying when he said his staff had taken care of most of it.

The man picked up the papers, eyes scanning over them to see how long it would take to complete. It didn't seem too daunting. It would probably take twenty minutes or so.

With that thought in mind, Victor got to work, reading the text laid out on the page and putting his signature where it needed to be.

Five minutes into it, Chris entered the office with a self-satisfied smirk pulling at his lips. "So, what's your answer about dating your assistant? I don't think I can keep away from him for very long."

Victor looked up from his paperwork, his eyebrow arched as he looked at Chris as if he had grown a second head. "Excuse me?"

Chris laughed as he leaned against his friend's desk. "I want to pursue your assistant. He acts so shy but that just makes me want him more. Now, can I date him or not?"

The Russian man opened his mouth to say it was fine and that he didn't really care, but was stopped short when there was a soft knock at the door.

The two men turned towards the doorway, Chris with a smile and Victor a look of confusion.

Before them stood a man a few inches shorter than themselves, his mop of black hair and thick glasses nearly obscuring the man's chocolate brown eyes. He was fitted in a simple white dress-shirt and simple black slacks that accentuated his lower half in a way that even Victor could appreciate. The question now, however, was: Who is he?

"Hello, Yuuri. We were just talking about you."

 **A/N: Again, I'm very sorry this is late! I really appreciate everyone that has followed, favorited, and reviewed. It really makes my day to see emails regarding this fic. Also, I know a lot of people only spell Yuri K's name with only one 'u' but since Yuri P will be in this as well I kind of need a way to properly differentiate them without saying Yuri P or Yuri K or Russian Yuri or Japanese Yuri. So, Yuri K will be Yuuri.**


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